


Recklessly Good

by stupidismymiddlename (80lady)



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Disabled Character, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Peter, SO READ MY GARBAGE, but anyways im spiderman TRASH, didnt get it beta'd, i dont want to talk about it, maybe? - Freeform, not entirely sure what that means?, the tense might be messed up, uh yeah so this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2018-12-16 06:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80lady/pseuds/stupidismymiddlename
Summary: “Ma’am- ““No.”Peter wants to groan and hit his head repeated against the podium behind him but he’s scared to move his head too much. “Ma’am, I really- “Michelle stops tinker with the collar locked around his neck to glare at him. From what Peter could see past the cloud of her hair, everyone else in the building had evacuated. Good. Now he just had to get rid of Michelle. But damn her glares really knew how to make your words curl up and die in your throat.“Listen, ‘Spiderman’, you’re really not in the position to be telling me what to do considering I’m the one doing the saving right now.” And she was, he guessed, or at least trying to. Michelle focused back on the bomb. That’s right, the bomb. The bomb that was locked around his neck. The bomb Michelle jones somehow thought she was going to be able to defuse, or get off him or something. All Peter knew was she kneeling between his legs, hand on his shoulder, messing with the bomb locked around his neck instead of running away like a sane person.





	1. its different when it's me

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first fic! I'm super stressed!!! please be nice to me!!! I might continue this if it seems like anyone likes it or if I get inspiration for another chapter. okay!! enjoy my garbage!!!!!!

“Ma’am- “

            “No.”

            Peter wants to groan and hit his head repeatedly against the podium behind him, but he’s scared to move his head that much. “Ma’am, I really- “

            Michelle stops tinkering with the collar locked around his neck long enough to glare at him. From what Peter could see past the cloud of her hair, everyone else in the building had evacuated. Good. Now he just had to get rid of Michelle. But _damn_ her glares really knew how to make your words curl up and die in your throat.

            “Listen, ‘Spiderman’, you’re really not in the position to be telling me what to do, considering I’m the one doing the saving right now.” And she was, he guessed, or at least trying to. Michelle focused back on the bomb. That’s right, the bomb. The bomb that was locked around his neck. The bomb Michelle jones somehow thought she was going to be able to defuse, or get off him, or something. All Peter knew was that she was kneeling between his legs, hand on his shoulder, messing with _the bomb locked around his neck_ instead of running away like a sane person.

            When Karen had directed him to a hostage situation at a fundraising gala for Norman Osborn (Aunt May liked his political stand points and Mr. Stark though highly of his company) Peter had never imagined that it might be a trap for Spiderman. He didn’t even realize Spiderman was considered a threat to bad guy of this caliber.

            Peter hissed, pulled out of his thoughts, as the metal prongs imbedded in his neck (and his suit! If he didn’t die, Mr. Stark was really going to kill him) sent out an electrical pulse and set his brain to ‘scramble’. Through the haze of _Jesus Fucking Christ that hurts_ he hear Michelle gasp.

            “Whoa!” she yelped, and Peter forced his boulder heavy eyelids to open so he could look at her. His heart was tight, and not just from the sudden jolt of electricity. If the shock affected him like this even with his powers, he had no idea how it would affect a normal person, like Michelle. Not that Michelle was normal. Wait, Peter didn’t mean that in the bad way. She was normal like the sun was a star. What was Peter saying? What was Peter doing? On right, the bomb, the bomb around his neck. “Whoa? What whoa? Whoa what?” were his words slurred?

“The whole inside just lit up.”

Oh, okay, so she was okay. “That was it shock me.” Peter said articulately. That was it shock me? _That was it shock me?!_ When did he become a five-year-old?

Michelle looked up at him sharply. “It shocked you?”

Peter nodded, before Michelle’s hand pushed his chin up and Peter realized nodding might not be a good idea. Michelle was so smart. “I think it’s so I don’t- so I cant- to keep me from- ” what’s the word he was looking for? “smart.” No, that definitely wasn’t right.

Michelle blew air out of her nose sharply. “Good thing you have me for smart then.” But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a good thing.

Michelle wasn’t even supposed to be at the gala, or at least Peter decided she wasn’t, even though he vaguely remembered her saying something about interning for the Daily Bugle to him and Ned at lunch, before punching him in the shoulder and telling him to forget she said that because ‘I don’t need you losers knowing anything about me’.

Which explained why, when he first landed on the stage at the fundraiser, in the second before the hairs on his back of his neck stood up and the prongs bit into his skin like a snake bite, Peter found himself staring at Michelle. It wasn’t really a stare, it was over in half a second. But time seemed to stretch whenever he was looking at her, like time itself was trying not to let go of her curls. She was standing in the front, no doubt because she elbowed her way there, pen sliding over notepad, camera hanging around her neck, face a smooth mask even as the criminal in green was yelling something at the crowd. Michelle looked nice, Peter not-so-absently noted. Still no makeup, but her hair had been pulled back semi-neatly, and it looked like she might have even brushed it, and she was actually wearing something white instead of her usual black.

It was a bit overwhelming to be honest, which explained why he didn’t notice someone- or something, maybe a drone?- sneak up on him and clamp on the collar. But that didn’t explain why Karen didn’t. It wasn’t like Peter could ask her now, since the prongs seemed to go through the exact cords to shut Karen down and- suddenly there was pain. White, hot, shocking pain all throughout his body. _Electricity_ , some distant, non-fried part of his brain noted as Peter dropped to the ground like a rock. _Electricity is sparking inside of me._

The green guy, who was honestly really scary looking, yelled an ultimatum or something at the crowd while Peter flopped uselessly on the ground like a fish. He only managed to catch three words.

“Collar.”

“Bomb.

“Dead.”

And then he was gone and so was the pain and Peter’s brain solidified enough for him to scream at the people to leave. It was like a stampede as Peter dragged himself over to the podium for support, leaning his back against it as he tried to get his brain right side up.

And then she was there, cool hands at his throat, and in the haze of his unfocused eyes, Peter really could have mistaken her as an angel. That is until-

“You’re a stupid fucking idiot, Spiderman.”

And she was ripping the panel off the front of the collar, reaching back and to pull a bobby pin out of her hair, only to put it in her mouth while she untwisted her pen and started straightening the spring from inside it.

            Now they were here, just over five minutes later, (Peter’s working theory was that the shocks would happen every five minutes to keep him from being able to think his way out of this but also he was pretty sure the floor was moving so) but it felt like a lifetime and Michelle. Would. Not. Leave.

            “Ma’am,” and it was so hard, _so hard_ not to call her Michelle, or even better, MJ, but he knew that if she knew who he really was, nothing he could say would make her leave. Or maybe she would. Peter was never sure about how she felt about him. Maybe if he pulled off his mask she’d realize she was risking her life for Peter Parker, not some hero, and she’d do the smart thing and leave.

            “I just- ” Peter tried again, but his throat closes. Peter wants to cry. He’s just a kid, but so is Michelle. And while Peter doesn’t want to die, if he’s going to, he _really_ doesn’t want to take her with him. “I don’t know what I’d do, if you were to- to- ” Peter can’t say it, looking at her eyes through the curtain of her eyelashes as she continues to poke and prod at the _fucking bomb_ around his neck. “to get hurt.” He finished softly, and Michelle scoffs, ruining what could have been a beautiful moment.

            “Well, you’re really not going to have time to feel guilty about it, Spidey, considering the fact that the only way I’m getting hurt is if this bomb blows up, and if this bomb blows up so do you.” She was so nonchalant as she did whatever she was doing at his neck. Tracing the wires? Pulling out the circuit board? Peter wasn’t sure but she seemed like she knew what she was doing. “Try and remove it by force? You blow up. I do the wrong thing in here? You blow up. Even if I killed you, the second your heart stopped? The bomb would still blow up. And this bomb isn’t going to blow up, because I’ve got plans, Spidey.” Michelle exhales a shaky breath, and for the first time Peter can feel her hand trembling against his neck. “I’ve got big plans.”

            “Why are you doing this?” Peter asked, his hand twitching to grab hers. He tipped his head back downto bring his eyes level with hers. “You’re scared- don’t try to tell me you’re not- but you still stayed. You’re the only one who stayed. And why? To save a stranger?” He looks into her eyes, the best he can with the suit between them, and tries to make her listen to what he’s saying. “It’s not worth it.”

            Without his head leaning back, it’s hard for Michelle to reach the collar, and her hands are shaking too much anyways. She lets them drop to her lap limply and presses her forehead to his chest, just above the symbol on his chest.

            Michelle lets herself rest there for a quiet moment before she says, “You remind me of someone I know.” And Peter has to focus very hard on controlling his heartbeat and breathing, because he shouldn’t be reacting like this. Did she do this on purpose? Put her head on his chest so she could monitor his bodies reaction? That seems like something she would do. Her hair smells nice- stop that. Peter wants to shake himself but moving seems really hard right now. He doesn’t even know who she’s referring to, or if she means it to be a compliment or an insult. Maybe Michelle doesn’t even like Spiderman. But that thought makes Peter frown deeply like there’s weights attached to the corners of his mouth, and Michelle’s speaking again.

            “He’s stupid too,” she says, and Peter thinks he’s missed some words but then she continues. “Reckless, like you. Recklessly good.” Peter feels his cheeks warming, even though she hasn’t said his name. Michelle pulls back to face him and Peter wants to duck to hide his blush before he remembers the mask.

            “Recklessly good, huh?” Peter hopes she can’t hear the goofy smile in his voice. This is so dumb. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not with Michelle, and definitely not with a bomb around his neck. “Well, that’s a dangerous thing to be nowadays.” Peter feels like he’s lying, hiding the truth behind the mask (and he is), but he can’t find it in himself to move away from what was probably dangerous territory.

            “Obviously,” Michelle rolled her eyes before focusing on the bomb as she picked up her make shift tools and started at his neck again. He leans his head back. “A month ago, he took on a school shooter- alone, in a hallway- when he wasn’t even supposed to be out there! He was ‘in the bathroom’, he said.” She blew a piece of hair that had fallen into her face back angrily. “Another sorry excuse.”

Peter wondered, if they got out of this alive, how long he’d be able to keep his secret from her. It was a wonder she hadn’t figured it out already, she was the smartest person he knew. And, assuming she knew what she was doing with the collar and wasn’t just fucking around, was it wrong of him to keep his identity from her if she saved his life? Peter really needed a superhero guidebook.

            Michelle seemed calmer, talking about- well- talking about him. Her hands were steady now. “when I realized what had happened I felt so sick to my stomach I left without saying a word to him, just left and went behind the school to cry in a bush.” There was a light _Tick_ noise from the collar and they both tensed for a second before Michelle relaxed and resumed her tinkering. “Then Friday he almost died because I was stupid enough to get mugged. I was just going to spray the guy with pepper spray when he just appears out of nowhere. I’ve lived in New York all my life, how the hell did I let myself-”

            There’s a second when Peter’s muscles tense and he doesn’t know why, before the second electric pulse hits him. This one is stronger, its white hot, and Peter hides away from his body in a memory.

            Friday, two days ago. That had been scary. He had been walking home from Ned’s when he heard her on the other side of the alley at the end of the street. His senses were still crazy, but Peter was getting better at picking out voices he knew, and that’s when he heard her. She was annoyed, but that was nothing new. What made his mind blank and his legs start running was the sound of something he had only heard in her voice at the Washington monument. _Fear_. Fear didn’t belong in Michelle’s voice. There was only room there for sarcasm and dry humor, and the occasional laugh when Peter made a joke she wasn’t expecting to be funny. Fear had no home there.

            Peter ran down the alley not even thinking of taking the time to change into his suit before he hopped onto a dumpster, flipped over the fence, and punched the mugger so hard in the face he was on the ground too fast for Peter’s eyes to track. Not that Peter’s eyes were on the mugger. They were already sweeping over Michelle.

            He grabbed her arms, patting and squeezing, looking for injuries. She stood frozen, hand still in her purse. “Michelle, I’m so sorry, did he- are you hurt?”

            Michelle’s hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his movements, and even with his powers, the grip it hurt. “Peter.” She said carefully, and Peter felt like he was standing on a frozen lake while a crack in the ice raced towards him.  “Peter, did you realize he had a gun?”

            Peter looked back at the guy, and sitting on the ground next to his limp hand was in fact a .45. Peter stretched his leg out from where Michelle still had a hold of his wrist and kicked it away from the mugger, even though Peter was pretty sure he wouldn’t be waking up for a while. Peter frowned, look at the guys slack face, blood streaming from his nose. Maybe Peter had gone overboard. But then an image of Michelle on the ground with a bloody bullet wound instead of a bloody nose, and decided no, fuck that, the guy got what he deserved.

            Peter turned back to Michelle. “No, I guess I didn’t notice it.” He said, and almost cried out when Michelle’s grip impossibly tightened. Was he sure Michelle didn’t get bit by the spider too? Because that was really starting to feel like an option. “You guess you didn’t notice?!” Michelle snapped, and she was angry, really angry, at him, and Peter really couldn’t understand why. To be honest, he was kind of scared. She threw his hand down, and Peter could feel the red fingerprints heal even as they began to show.

            “You’re a stupid fucking idiot, Parker.” She said, and left. Left him with the mugger (which Peter could handle, but she didn’t know that) and left him with the question: What the fuck just happened?

            Peter was yanked from his memory as Michelle’s voice reached his ears again. He wondered how long he was gone, but he figured not long considering they weren’t blown up and Michelle didn’t appear to notice him spacing out.

            Michelle seemed to be mindlessly chattering as she pulled three differently colored wires out of the collar. Peter had never thought of her as a nervous talker, but then again, he had never thought that he’d be boneless on the stage of a political candidate, Michelle between his legs, trying to defuse a bomb while police lights shined through the windows.

Michelle kept talking. “He has no concern for his own wellbeing and I hate it because I’m not supposed to care about people. It’s not my thing. My thing is actually _not_ caring. I’m not- “she cuts herself off, pressing her lips together so hard they turn white, sighing angrily. “I’m not _wired_ that way. God, that was a stupid pun.” She looked up at him and gestured to the wires. “Get it? That was a bad pun, that was something he would say. He’s rubbing off on me in the worse way.”

An alarm suddenly went off and Peter’s heart stopped (this is it, this is the end) before Michelle turned to dig in the tiny black purse Peter hadn’t noticed until now and shut it off.  She pulled out a pair of nail clippers and held them up between them, pulling Peter’s chin down to face her.

“well Spidey, this is it. The Green Goblin or whatever he called himself said we had 15 minutes to evacuate the building before your collar detonated. Its officially been 13.” She held up her phone, and Peter saw the stopwatch at 00:00. “Now, do you want to spend the next two minutes of your life, the rest of your life, I might add, waiting for a bomb squad that’s probably not past 17th street, or-“ Michelle slid the blue wire between the clippers and looked him in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Peter looked at Michelle, with her clean face and cute nose and messy hair and beautiful brain and wished she was looking at Peter, not Spiderman. Thought about her ‘insults’ and piles and piles of books and the white-hot rage he saw in her eyes in the alley.

“I trust you.”

They held each other’s stare as she pressed the clippers closed. _Clip._

And then a millisecond later, _Click!_ The collar opened.

Peter stared, dumbfounded, at the girl who saved his life, as Michelle tore the collar off of him. The prods in the back ripped out of his neck, but he didn’t care how much it hurt because he was alive, he could feel, and Michelle was in front of him. She pulled it over his head and set it on the podium before squatting down again.

She was breathless. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to be in this building or near that bomb any longer, so how about you give me your arm?”

And Peter did, unable to look away from her face. And as he did, ten thousand emotions filled his already stuffed head, but he focused on one: anger. What was wrong with her? Does she not realize how stupid that was? How could she be so-

Peter wanted to punch himself in the face as he shuffled to the doors, Michelle supporting him with an arm around his waist.

How could she be so reckless. So recklessly good.

He suddenly understood the rage he had seeing her eyes in the alley, the way she wasn’t just mad at him, but herself, but it was a lot easier to be mad at him. It was a lot easier to be mad at her.

They pushed out into the street and Peter got a barely a second to look into Michelle’s eyes before the reporters descended upon them. Michelle pushed Peter behind her.

“Spiderman! Spiderman!” They yelled, but Michelle held her ground.

“Spiderman’s had a bit of a night, so he’s going to leave now and you’re going to let him.” Michelle spoke in that nonchalant way of hers, as if what she was saying was law and she couldn’t even imagine someone not obeying.

A lady reporter shoved a mic in Michelle’s face even though Peter could imagine the deadly expression she was probably wearing. “And who, exactly, are you?” the reporter asked, and Peter leaned forward before Michelle could answer.

“She’s the girl who just saved my life.”

And then Peter shot a web at the building across the street (thank god the web shooters still worked, that would have been embarrassing) and swung away as the reporters turned on Michelle.

_There_ , he thought, gliding through the night sky. _Let Michelle deal with the reporters. That ought to teach her to risk her life for a stranger._ But even as he thought it, he could feel his cheeks ache under the pressure of the goofy smile that was splitting his face.

School tomorrow was really going to be interesting.


	2. its a tangled web we weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle was not above murder. Or at least she was not above murdering Flash if he didn’t stop asking her about what happened Sunday.
> 
> When Michelle had looked up at the sky and asked it to kill her after laying in bed for 48 hour having /feelings/ about Peter Parker, she hadn’t meant it literally. But somehow, that same night she found herself stranded in front of a crowd of reporters, almost dead after defusing a bomb and saving Spiderman’s life.  
> Looking back on it, Michelle had no idea what came over her as she set the timer on her phone and pushed against the crowd, towards the bomb instead of away. She tried to rationalize it, that if it wasn’t for him, all her friends would have died in D.C and she was doing this because she owed him, but she knew it wasn’t true. Something possessed Michelle as she ripped that panel off of his neck, something that told her she wasn’t leaving this building without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did somebody say add a plot!? because I totally fucking did holy shit guys. thank you all for your amazing comments, I really didn't think anyone would read my story, much less want me to write more. but you did! and I did! and here it is! I hope its everything you could ever ask for!!!!!!!!!  
> (P.S. I switch POV like halfway through and I think this will be a usual occurrence in upcoming chapters. ALSO IT JUST ERASED SOME OF MY TABS AND NOT OTHERS AND WOULDNT LET ME PUT THEM BACK IN SO I GUESS ITS JUST ANARCHY)

Michelle was not above murder. Or at least she was not above murdering Flash if he didn’t stop asking her about what happened Sunday. It was bad enough she got ditched with the reporters by Spiderman, leaving her alone to deal with the migraine inducing questions.

“Did you really save Spiderman’s life?” _Uh yeah, he literally just said so._

“Do you know his real identity?” _If I did, why would I tell you?_

“Who are you wearing?” _Goodwill. What kind of dumbass question…_

And then there was the absolute worse question, the one Flash was currently pushing- “So what? Are you like his girlfriend now or something?”

Michelle looked up from her locker, slowly and deadly in the way that had made Flash pee himself in the second grade, and, possibly- based off of the look on his face- the tenth grade as well. “Flash,” she began carefully and he actually took a step back. “If you, or _anyone else_ ,” she raised her voice for the people who were not so secretly eavesdropping throughout the hall, “Ask me one more brain numbing question about Spiderman, I’m going to build my own prototype of the collar bomb, and clip it onto _your_ neck.” Michelle slammed her locker shut, and almost the entire hallway jumped.

Flash smoothed back his hair, hand shaking slightly. “Whatever, I don’t even care. You probably just made it all up anyways like Parker.”

The hairs on the back of Michelle’s neck stood up as a voice piped up directly behind her. “Considering the fact that Spiderman himself said it, I don’t think that’s very likely.” Michelle turned around, eyes level with the collar of a pressed white button up. She looked up to see Harry Osborn smiling amiably at Flash. “So how about you go to class while me and Michelle have a little tête à tête?” Michelle frowned, unimpressed by the senior boy as he turned the full power of his smile on her.

She didn’t smile back. “I had it under control.”

Harry kept smiling, leaning against the lockers. “I know, but I wanted to talk to you and he was in the way.”

Michelle kept her face blank. “Who said I wanted to talk to you?”

Harry laughed in surprise, “God, Michelle Jones.” He breathed out, shaking his head, somehow still smiling. “What are the odds?”

Michelle felt her irritation rise. She didn’t like it when people put on a show, and Harry was definitely acting his heart out. Michelle just wanted him get to the point so she could leave. She was rereading His Dark Materials and she could feel the book weighing down her back pack. “What are the odds of what?” She snapped.

“That you’d be the one to save my father.” He said, and Michelle really didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. So she said so. Harry laughed again even though Michelle didn’t know what was so funny. “Do you not remember defusing that bomb yesterday?” Ah, right. Harry Osborn, Norman Osborn. The Gala had been to raise funds for his father’s campaign.

When Michelle had looked up at the sky and asked it to kill her after laying in bed for 48 hour having _feelings_ about Peter Parker, she hadn’t meant it literally. But somehow, that same night she found herself stranded in front of a crowd of reporters, almost dead after defusing a bomb and saving Spiderman’s life.

Looking back on it, Michelle had no idea what came over her as she set the timer on her phone and pushed against the crowd, towards the bomb instead of away. She tried to rationalize it, that if it wasn’t for him, all her friends would have died in D.C and she was doing this because she owed him, but she knew it wasn’t true. Something possessed Michelle as she ripped that panel off the collar around his neck, something that told her she wasn’t leaving this building without him. Without Spiderman. A complete stranger! And then, hopped up on adrenaline and fear, she had talked to him about Peter… Michelle wanted to slam her head into her locker. Multiple times, until she forgot all of Sunday night. Including when she had finally escaped the reporters and got home only to have a screaming match with her father while her mother cried her way through a box of tissues.

Logically, Michelle knew her dad wasn’t really angry, just worried for her well-being, and frustrated that he couldn’t understand why she would put herself in danger like that, or how she even knew how to defuse a bomb in the first place. Michelle didn’t know how to explain it either, so eventually she just shut up let him ground her. Didn’t know how to explain why she stayed, that is, not the bomb defusing. That was a part of her preventive preparedness skills, albeit not one she really ever thought she’d need to use.

And now, because she stayed, she was being hounded by the press and her classmates and now Harry Osborn in a way she had never experienced before. Michelle liked the background, to be the observer. She didn’t like feeling like she was the one under the microscope.

Michelle blinked up at Harry, coming back to the present. “I didn’t save your dad, everyone was already out of the building.”

Harry snapped his fingers like she had said something clever. “That’s right, but that was also one of my Father’s buildings and he’s so _very_ thankful to you for saving it.” Harry leaned in conspiringly. “Also, can you imagine how it would damage him in the polls if Spiderman died at one of his events?” Harry shivered dramatically as he pulled back, and Michelle wondered if he always performed for people like this. Harry perked up again, looking down at Michelle. “What I’m saying is that my father would love to invite you to his Gala on Friday and give you a one on one interview -you intern for the Bugle, right?- as thanks for saving the building, and, well, his campaign.”

Michelle stared blankly at Harry for a few moments. “Your father… wants to invite me… to a gala…. two weeks after I almost died at the last one.” She said disbelievingly, but Harry was distracted by something over her head.

“I, uh- yes! As his special guest. You’ll sit with him and I at dinner- and-” Harry grabbed Michelle’s backpack from her mindlessly, throwing it over his own shoulder. “Do you mind if we take this conversation over here?” he asked, already moving through the crowd _with her backpack._ Michelle grumbled as she elbowed her way through the river of students. She shoved her way out of the current to see Peter Parker leaning over Molly Marbles in an empty doorway. Her black lensed glasses were pushed back on her head and her white walking cane was folded and in the holster on her leg. They seemed… cozy.

“Molly!” Harry called, and Michelle’s eyes narrowed. His voice was different. Higher, and eager, with none of the practiced smoothness from before.

Molly’s head twitched in Harry’s direction, blind eyes widening while Peter jumped, and her face was guilty for a second before splitting into a fake smile. Judging by the way a blush bloomed across Harry’s cheeks, he didn’t notice. “Harry! Hi!” her voice was higher too, but in less of a wow-look-it’s-my-crush way like Harry’s and more like a what?!-I-wasn’t-doing-anything type of way. The scar that laid across both of Molly’s eyes and the bridge of her nose was pink and shiny in the florescent lights. Michelle kept her face blank as she looked at Peter, who’s eyes were flickering back and forth between Harry and Molly like he was watching tennis.

Michelle zoned back into the conversation. Harry was stumbling over his words, blush only deepening as he tried to confirm her as his date to his father’s gala that Friday, eyes flickering towards Peter as if to make sure he was listening. All his grand gestures and fancy footwork was gone as he tried to woo the one girl who wouldn’t care about his looks or expensive clothes. Michelle She actually felt bad for Molly as she patiently replied to his stuttered question. Michelle was glad she would never be stuck in that position, two boys fighting over her in the middle of the hall. How boring. Although Peter didn’t seem to be fighting at all as the three of them stood there in sudden silence, nobody looking each other in the eye.

Michelle took pity on them. “Well, this is awkward.” She drawled, and all three of them immediately sprang into action like the starting pistol had gone off and it was time for them to race.

“Okay! Well I’ll just-!” Harry said enthusiastically, turning back to Michelle with a lightly panicked look on his face, and Michelle had to admit: without the trained expression of ‘alluring aloofness’ that Betty Ross and Cindy Moon always twittered over, Harry was actually quite nice to look at. His eyes were softer and actually quite nice, and his forehead smoothed out when he wasn’t acting like someone he wasn’t.

Over his shoulder, Molly was holding onto Peter’s arm, saying something. Harry suddenly blocked Michelle’s view, and she noted that the mask was back on. “Here you go Michelle, sorry I cant walk you to class-” He started, but Michelle just grabbed her backpack and left. She didn’t want to talk to Harry Osborn, son of business man and politician Norman Osborn. If she was going to talk to Harry at all, it would be to the unsure, honest boy he had been just seconds ago.

Michelle kept her back turned as she heard Peter shout a goodbye to Molly, trying to push the imagine of him leaning over her in the doorway, perfectly hidden from prying eyes, leaning in-

Michelle shook her head. It didn’t matter. Totally didn’t matter. She was entirely unfazed and would not hate Molly just because she might have a thing with a boy that Michelle didn’t even have a crush on because that would be unfeminist of her. Besides, she didn’t have a crush on Peter. She didn’t. Shut up.

Michelle tried to remember everything she knew about Molly. Margret ‘Molly’ Marbles transferred to Midtown after she dropped a feature on her blog exposing the New York Public School Board for money laundering, of all things, and her teachers and parents realized she had been pretending to do average in class and on tests to attend the school and get the story. They reported about it CNN and used Molly’s blog as a source. Molly was also blind, and nobody, not even Michelle, knew the story behind that. There was gossip, but Michelle only accepted facts from the source. Molly also wore a blinding amount of colors at all times. Her yellow blouse had been tucked messily into her red polka dot skirt and orange tights as she had looked up at Peter from under her eyelashes-

“MJ, hey!” Peters voice pulled Michelle out of her thoughts as he fell into step beside her.

_____________________________________________________________

 

Peter Parker considered himself a feminist, and an ally for all women. Which was why he was restraining himself from stomping over to where Harry Osborn was talking to Michelle, wrapping his arms around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder and simply carrying her away from Harry and all his rich boy charms.

It was the first time Peter was seeing her since he had left her to fend for herself against the reporters, and he desperately wanted to talk to her and hear her voice. Harry’s laugh managed to carry over the white noise of the hallway and Peter zipped his backpack closed harshly. He was acting like a total caveman, and if Michelle could hear the word that kept repeating over and over again in his head, she’d slap him. But still it persisted. _Mine, mine, mine._

Peter slammed his locker shut, planning to stick his head under a faucet in the bathroom for some desperately needed clarity before class, but crashed into someone before he even got two steps. “Oh my god, I’m so sor-” he started.

            “Peter Parker?” Peter looked down at the small, brightly dressed redhead and had to stifle a gasp. The pink burn that stretched across her eyes like a blindfold was still as shocking as the first time he had seen it, and her eyes were milky and pale. The stark redness of the scar was only emphasized by the orange locks shoved back haphazardly by her black lensed glasses. Her face was pointed down as she quickly folded up her white cane and snapped in into the holster on her thigh, and when she looked up she looked… terrified. Her hands reached out towards him. “Peter?”

            “Yes, yeah, it’s me. Hi, Molly,” He remembered having English with her in the beginning of the year until she switched out. Molly Marbles. Transferred here from a public school when her parents and teachers realized she was pretending to be an average student so she could investigate the school board for doing something illegal. She was hot gossip when she first moved here because nobody knew the story of how she went blind. Wild stories about how Molly got her scar flooded the halls while she walked straight through them, people moving out of the way for her white cane like the red sea. Peter was pretty sure she was in Newspaper and had written a couple of really cool articles on Spiderman. He took one of her outstretched hands in his and pulled her towards the lockers. “Molly, what’s wrong?”

            She squeezed his hand tightly, hand shaking in his. “Peter, do you still have that Stark internship?” Molly was whispering.

            Peter nodded before realizing he was an idiot and she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, uh why?”

            Despite being unseeing and slightly to the left of his head, Molly’s gaze was intense. “I need to talk to Tony Stark.”

            Peter dropped her hand, shifting the strap on his backpack uneasily. “Molly, I can’t really- Mr. Stark, he’s not a party trick.”

            Molly groaned and pulled at her hair before talking a deep breath. She tipped her head to the side for a second like she was listening for something before grabbing him by the front of his shirt. Molly felt her way along the wall quickly until she pulled him into an empty doorway. She dropped her hold his shirt. “Peter, I work as an intern at Oscorp and I have some information I need to get to Tony Stark.” She leaned closer to him, whispering harshly. “The Avenger side of Tony Stark.”

            Peter flipped them around, putting Molly in the corner. “What’s going on.” He asked seriously, voice completely devoid of all his Peter Parker awkwardness. This was his Spiderman voice, the one he used when he needed a victim to focus or a bad guy to give up information. Aunt May and Mr. Stark may think highly of Norman Osborn, but Peter had his own opinions. He remembered the school trip, the bite, and the pain that followed for days afterwards. He knew that Mr. Osborn wasn’t completely honest with the public about the evperiments he was doing at Oscorp.

            Molly took a deep breath before talking a mile a minute. “They hired me earlier this year, some outreach program to show that Oscorp doesn’t discriminate against people with disabilities or something. But they do. It’s like they think just because I’m blind they can do whatever they want in front of me. But they can’t, I’m not stupid and I’m not fucking Helen Keller, I can still hear them-” Molly was gesturing wildly, getting off track and the bell was going to ring any minute.

            “Molly.” Peter did not snap, just said a little harshly.

            She blinked. “Right.” Molly took another deep breath, and when she looked up Peter felt an intense urge to wrap her up in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. He settled for resting his arm on the wall above her shoulder. “I was working on Friday and overheard some of the scientists saying something about this serum, that they’ve been working on for like months, or something, and there’s something seriously funky about it, every time I hear them talk about it, and so this time I got closer, and I accidentally heard them enter in the code. I heard the beeps, Peter, I know the password to the room that they’re keeping the serum. I don’t want to get into it here at school but I think-“

            “Molly!”

Peter jumped, and Molly’s eyes widened fractionally in fear before a big smile spread on her face. “Harry! Hi!” she said, and Peter hoped he was the only one who heard the strain in her voice.

            Peter turned around and saw Harry and Michelle standing behind them, realizing for the first time the compromising position Peter had put them in. Molly in the corner, Peter leaning over her, one arm against the wall. He caught himself glancing at Michelle to see if she had noticed, but her face was blank, per usual. It was the first time he had seen her face since the bomb, and he itched to be closer to her, but someone was in his way.

            Harry, handsome, charming, clever Harry was smiling at Molly like she was the sun. He opened his mouth wordlessly for a moment before “Molly, uh, hi!” tumbled out. Peter turned slowly to look back at Molly, who was trying to keep the guilty look off her face.

            “Yes, hello Harry.” She said with patience, and a blush was spreading across Harry’s cheeks.

            “Right, um, you already said that.” Harry’s eyes flickered toward Peter. “Um, are we still on for next Friday? The Gala? Uh, at my father’s work?” And a light bulb went off in Peter’s head. Molly Marbles, amateur reporter, was using Harry Osborn, the most sought-after guy at Midtown Tech, to expose whatever nefarious activities his father was planning. And Harry… Peter looked at Harry, and saw the golden boy looks and name brand clothes everyone else saw. But when he looked closer, Peter saw the blush dusting his cheeks and the bright gleam in his eye as he looked down at Molly. Poor Harry was completely smitten.

Molly shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “Yeah, Harry, I haven’t forgotten in the ten minutes we’ve been apart.”

Harry glanced at Peter again before nodding. “Good, good, that’s uh… good.”

It was tensely quiet as they all stood there, Harry looking at Molly, Molly facing Peter’s general direction, and Peter staring stubbornly at the floor, refusing to be a part of it before he had a chance to think it over and maybe call Mr. Stark.

“Well this is awkward.” Michelle deadpanned, and it was like someone had broken the glass on the emergency fire alarm. All motion started at once.

“Okay! Well I’ll just-!” Harry said, gesturing over his shoulder.

Molly grabbed Peter’s arm. “I’ll talk to you, after school?”

“Here you go Michelle-” Harry started, charm back on full force as he handed Michelle her backpack. _Why the hell was Harry Osborn carrying Michelle’s backpack?_

Molly shook his arm and Peter’s head nodded like a bobble head. “Uh, yeah-” Peter watched Michelle turn away and start towards class. “Uh, I’ll- talk to, about the thing, the library? After school- I gotta go, bye Molly!” he shouted over his shoulder as he chased after Michelle.

He pushed his way through the crowd, falling into step next to her. “MJ, hey! So uh, what did Harry want from you?” _and WHY was he carrying your backpack?_ An angry little voice yelled in his head.

Michelle didn’t look at him. “That depends. What did Molly want from you?” She retorted but kept talking over Peter’s spluttered explanation. “And what, you think someone like Harry Osborn would only talk to someone like me if he needed something?” she asked as they entered their class, turning to him for his answer.

Wait, when did Peter dig himself into this hole? “What!? No, more like _you_ would need something from _Harry_ for _you_ to talk to _him_.” She continued looking at him blankly. Peter’s shoulders drooped. “That didn’t make much sense, did it?” He asked, and Michelle just walked away. Peter flopped into his seat and dropped his head onto his desk. Good, good. This was exactly how he wanted today to go.

He felt someone press down hard on the still red holes where the collar had pierced his skin. Peter sat up quickly to see Flash’s smirking face. “What, did Molly Marbles give you that hickey, Parker?” Peter saw Michelle tense up at her desk under Flash’s arm, close her book with a slam and pull out a much thicker one from her bag.

Peter didn’t even bother responding to Flash, dropping his head back onto his desk with a thunk. Great. Just great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay bear (bare?) with me guys, I promise this is going somewhere. its actually going big places, so watch out for the next chapter. Ned will be here soon, do not worry.
> 
> also, incase you were wondering, I'm totally imagining Harrison, Tom Holland's best friend, as Harry Osborn because its just too perfect.
> 
> please leave comments letting me know if you guys are liking what I'm putting down, I'm desperate for validation!!!!!!!!! :)))))))))))))


	3. Tempted by the Fruit of Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle’s eyes narrowed as she picked up her apple. “What does Molly Marbles need with Tony stark?”  
> Peter’s mouth flopped open uselessly. The roar of the lunch room fell back into a dull hum. The middle button of Michelle's cardigan was buttoned into the top slip. The hair tie holding her hair back into a nest-like bun was the same shade of purple as the streak in her hair. Had Michelle’s teeth always been so straight?  
> Peter blinked, realizing he had been looking at Michelle for an unknown amount of time while Ned was staring at him so intensely Peter could feel it on the side of his face.  
> “Uh…”  
> Michelle raised an eyebrow.  
> And then an angel spoke.  
> “None of your business, really, when you think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry everyone!!! i'm not dead!!! surprise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just got super distracted by future parts of this fic and also started college but its here now so eat up kiddies. please comment or I wont know if I should keep going :)

“Dude!” Ned exclaimed, dropping his tray onto the lunch table, causing his apple to bounced away. Peter caught it and shined it on his shirt before handing it back to Ned, but he just knocked it out of Peters hand again, leaning forward. “May I just say, epic fail this morning with Michelle. I couldn’t hear what you were saying from across the room, but you guys were really emoting so I got the gist of it.”

Peter shoved at Ned’s shoulder and went to get the apple from where it hand rolled to a stop down the table, but Ned stopped him “Wait! There’s more.” Ned dug into his bag and pulled out an actual manila file and slid it across his table to Peter. On the tab, it read ‘Green Goblin’.

Peter quickly shoved it into his backpack. “Dude!” he cried, looking around to make sure nobody had seen. “Thank you, but you know Karen has access to like way more information than you or I could ever imagine, right? She already narrowed it down and made a file on my computer for me to look at when I get home.”

Ned nodded. “I figured, that’s why that’s just filled with drawings of Spider-man beating the Green Goblin up that I drew while during English.” Peter smiled and they did their handshake, ignoring the looks from the other students.

“Awesome dude, I’ll add them to the coll-ection.” On the inside of Peters closet door, Ned and him had started to make a shrine of sorts, a patch work mural made of Ned’s drawings and articles peter cut out of magazines and newspapers about Spiderman. May thought it was egotistical, a little silly and kinda of dangerous, but Peter didn’t. It wasn’t like anyone other than May, and Ned (and Mr. Stark that one time, that was cool) ever went into his room, and even if someone did see it, it just looked like he really liked Spider-man. Which he did. Dude was cool.

Haha.

Ned’s hands suddenly slapped onto his table and made Peter jump. “Dude!” Ned yelled, struck with a sudden thought. “Why did I hear from Abe that Harry Osborn caught you and Molly Marbles in an empty doorway this morning?”

Peter still really wanted to get that apple from the end of the table. “Uh… because it happened?”

“No,” Ned said, fixing Peter with a stern look. “I mean why did I hear it from Abe instead of my best friend?”

Peter felt his face fall. Ever since Toomes, he had been trying to be a better friend to Ned, the sweetest nugget ever who deserved the entire world, not a flakey best friend. Peter had been trying, but he was mostly failing.

“Aw Ned, I’m sorry. It happened like, just before the bell, and then we had class, and then- well, you know I have the attention span of a goldfish, it must have slipped my mind.”

Ned leaned back, eyes narrowed and hands steepled under his chin. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “I will forgive you this once, but from now on, any interaction with any hot babes must be debriefed with me at a later time.”

“Deal,” Peter smiled, holding his hand out for a fist bump, which Ned graciously returned. “Molly’s not just hot though, dude.”

Ned nodded while taking apart his sandwich. “No of course, I’m sure she is a multidimensional woman with a brilliant mind and wicked turn of phrase but I’ve never actually had the honor of speaking to her, so: hot.” Ned smiled triumphantly, holding up two pickles he has dissected from his sandwich.

“No, well, yes, she is,” Peter said, accepting one of the pickles and popping it into his mouth. “But I mean she apparently has some dirt on Osborn that she wants to get to Mr. Stark so she’s meeting me in the library after school to discuss it.”

A tray holding only an apple (wait, where did Ned’s apple go?) and a carton of strawberry milk clattered down next to peter. Like, not a whole-table-down-from-him next to him like usual, but the-next-chair-over next to him.

Michelle dropped into the seat, arm brushing his as she reached for the second pickle dangling from Ned’s fingers. “You losers talking about Peter’s date with Molly today after school in the library?” She turned to Peter, hair falling over one eye. “You know discuss is a weird word for make out.”

Peter squawked. “What? We’re not- I would never- I mean not never-” Michelle just watched his verbal example of falling down stairs with a straight face and a slightly raised eyebrow. Peter turned to Ned, panicky. “Ned?”

Ned nodded like the loyal best friend he was. “Yeah, totally, no, she’s just using him to get to Stark.”

“Ned!”

Michelle’s eyes narrowed as she picked up her apple. “What does Molly Marbles need with Tony Stark?”

Peter’s mouth flopped open uselessly. The roar of the lunch room fell back into a dull hum. The middle button of Michelle’s cardigan was buttoned into the top slip. The hair tie holding her hair back into a nest-like bun was the same shade of purple as the streak in her hair. Had Michelle’s teeth always been so straight?

Peter blinked, realizing he had been looking at Michelle for an unknown amount of time while Ned was staring at him so intensely Peter could feel it on the side of his face.

“Uh…”

Michelle raised an eyebrow.

And then an angel spoke.

“None of your business, really, when you think about it.”

Peter and Michelle both turned around to see Molly Marbles standing properly behind them, white cane folded up and a polite smile on her face. She thrust out her hand, a bit too close to Michelle’s face, but still impressive. “Michelle jones. We haven’t properly met. I’m-”

“Molly Marbles. I know.” Michelle said, taking her hand, and shaking it in a fluid movement. They stood like that for a moment before both letting go at the same time, each nodding once, slowly, like they had come to some nonverbal agreement. Molly turned to peter so sharply he almost jumped. “Today, in the library, after school then?”

Peter nodded dumbly before realizing. “I- uh, nodded.”

“Good.” Molly smiled again, turning to leave before stopping abruptly. “Oh yeah,” she turned around, revealing a red apple in her hand. “I believe this is yours, Ned.” Peter took it carefully, like it might explode. Molly smiled and walked away, people tripping over themselves to make way.

Peter turned back to his lunch slowly. “How did she know...”

Ned’s eyes were huge. “Dude…”

Michelle took the apple from Peter’s hand and replaced it with her own. “That girl is disconcerting. And that’s coming from me.” Michelle said, biting into her stolen apple. Ned and Peter both stared at her. “What? If anyone’s going to get superpowers by eating an apple from a blind girl you better believe it’s going to be me.”

__________________________________

Michelle had a problem. A situation. An issue, if you would. And its name was Peter Parker.

Peter Parker was a nerd, and by all laws of nature, that meant that he should be smart, skinny, and scrawny. But he wasn't, and it was really pissing Michelle off.

She watched from the bleachers as Peter completed his fifth rep of 25 push-ups like it was nothing, arms bulging like some cheesy romance novel, until Ned whispered yelled at him in a panic and Peter collapsed onto the matt in 'exhaustion'. As if nobody could easily see he wasn't even sweating if they took the time to pay attention, which, admittedly, no one but Michelle seemed to do.

That is, until the ropes.

Flash Thompson was a raging dick, and fit perfectly into the laws of nature for a dick. Rich, cocky, and overcompensating. So nobody was surprised when he started taunting Peter.

"Hey, Penis Parker," he said, slapping Peter’s shoulder and Peter didn't even bother to pretend like it hurt. "Remember last year when you couldn't get three feet off the ground? that was embarrassing.”

Peters jaw ticked, and he seemed to be considering something in his head.

“How about this, flash?” he asked, even as Ned tugged at the back of his shirt. “We see who can get up the rope fastest, and if I win, you stop calling me Penis Parker.”

Flash tipped his head, considering. Everyone had stopped pretending to do their assigned activities and were blatantly watching the confrontation. “And if I win?” Flash finally asked.

Peter’s brow furrowed. He obviously hadn’t thought that far. “if you win…”

“Peter has to streak across campus.”

Peter spun to face Michelle, a hilariously betrayed look on his face. “What?!?” he squeaked, but Michelle just shrugged.

Coach Wilson blew his whistle once. “If an adult asks, I didn’t hear this conversation.” He said before sitting back down in his foldable lawn chair he brought out every class.

Flash clapped his hands together once. “Yes! I love it, great idea MJ.”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“Okay!” Flash said, finger gunning at her for a moment before going over to the rope to get ready.

“ _Michelle…”_ Peter whined, looking like a kicked puppy.

Michelle flopped her head towards him lazily, ignoring the bubble of affection in her stomach. She probably just had to burp. “If you don’t want to do it, then don’t lose.” Peter frowned one more time before going over to talk to Ned who didn’t look as stressed as she thought he should. Maybe he also had a feeling that there was no way Peter was about to lose this race.

Flash’s turn was pretty uneventful, except for his face was an interesting shade of somehow both red and green by the time he had gotten back to the ground.

Ned rubbed peters shoulders like a boxing coach leading a player into the ring before Peter swatted him away. Peter walked up to the rope- even his _walk_ had changed in the past few months- body moving fluidly. He looked up when he reached the rope, and Michelle accidentally caught his eye. He held her them, body still for a moment, and the world fell away. Something flashed in the dark color of his eyes, something like a challenge, before he hopped up and grabbed the rope.

And holy fuck.

He swung his body and pulled hard on the rope, letting go for a moment before grabbing it again, two feet higher. His biceps looked like someone had shoved a tennis ball under his skin, but not in the grotesque way. In the really nice I-want-to-lick-that sort of way.

“What the fuck.” Betty said flat out, and the other girls (and some boys) nodded. Peter was already two thirds of the way up the rope and all the way into the wet dreams of everyone in the gym. Were calves supposed to be that defined?

Charlie was holding his chest tight. “Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on? I think I’m going into cardiac arrest.”

Peter finally reached the top, pausing for a moment to smile down at Michelle and Ned, and Michelle needed to sit down even though she was already sitting down. Lay down. She needed to lay down. In the nurse’s office. Someone take her to the nurses office please.

"Oh my god," Cindy Moon whispered beside her as Peter rang the bell, back muscles working under his midtown tech tank top as he held on to the rope with only one hand. "I think I just came."

"Cindy!" Betty whisper yelled, but still didn't take her eyes off of Peter as he lowered himself down. Nobody did. And, honestly? Nobody particularly disagreed with Cindy.

Peter climbed down before swinging off when he got half way, landing in front of Flash. “I win.” He said simply, not bragging, just stating.

Flash was staring at his incredulously. After a moment he said, “Dude, can I feel your arms?”

Peters ears were red. “uh, no?”

Flash was still looking at him funny. “I’m watching you, Parker.” He said without his usual bite, before turning away to stand with his cronies.

Ned slapped Peter on the shoulder. “He didn’t say penis!”

Michelle tilted her head to the side from behind the book she hadn’t read a line of all class. “Give it a week, it’ll pop back up.” She said, smiling slightly at her own innuendo.

Peter walked towards her, and as he did Michelle felt her temperature rise. It wasn’t just the way he pushed his hair back, or the strip of skin visible between the bottom of his tank top and the top of his short that made her feel hot. It was in the strained look he was giving her with his big doe eyes, and in the way he was saying her name. Wait, what was he saying?

“Really Michelle? Streaking? Could you have had a worse idea?”

“I could think of worse ideas.” Cindy said before Betty pulled her over to the pull up bars.

Michelle nodded after them, resisting the urge to fan herself. “I’m just trying to give the people what they want.”

Peters cheeks were pink with a blush as he settled down next to her, and Michelle wanted to ignore how pretty it looked under the sand colored freckles that speckled his face. “You’ve never cared what people have wanted from you ever in your entire life.”

Michelle struggled to keep her eyes on her book, chest flushing under that… compliment. “Be careful speaking in absolutes. I care about what I want.”

“And what do you want, Michelle?” Peter’s voice was heavy, and his dark, warm eyes were making Michelle burn. He was leaning back on his elbows, shoulders bare and all his attention on her. Michelle felt the world try to slip away again even as she saw Abe trip Corey in her peripheral vision.

It was hormones. It wasn't Michelle's fault she wanted to climb him like a tree. She rested the urge to jump him by putting all of her frustration into a punch to his arm.

"Ow!!" Peter practically bleated as he laughed through the word. "What was that for?"

Michelle finally gave up on her book, setting it in her lap. “For trying to sound like the boring white love interest in a YA novel.” Peter smiled at her happily, and Michelle wished she wasn’t so emotionally constipated so she could smile back at him the way he deserved.

Coach Wilson stood up, blowing his whistle loud. “Okay, class is done. Get out so I can leave.”

__________________________________________

Peter found Molly at the back of the library after school. Her red hair was pulled back low, a blue and green butterfly clip at the bottom of her neck, and she had her forehead pressed to the table as the pads of her fingers whispered over the pages of her specially made braille textbook.

"You're staring."

Peter repressed the jump that sprang up his spine. "I- I wasn't- no I- okay I _was_ looking at you, I don't want to lie because- well-" because it just felt wrong lying to a blind girl about something she would know if she could see. "I was looking at you. But not in a weird way. Maybe it was weird but like-" Peter didn't know where he was going with this. It felt like he had already dug the hole and filled the dirt back in over his head again. But Molly just laughed.

"Relax, Pete.” she said, peeling her forehead off the table, a red mark raising to the surface. “I know you don't like me."

Peter frowned. "I like you!"

Molly gave him a look. "Are we in kindergarten? Am I really going to have to say like-like right now?"

“Oh, okay.” Peter stood there, thumbs tucked under his backpack straps. Molly just ‘looked’ at him. “I looked you up.”

Molly leaned back in her seat. “Oh, you did, did you?”

“Mm-hm.” Peter said, sitting down across from her. “your internship is real.”

“Did you really doubt that?”

“No, but I did find out your mother works for Stark.” Molly’s eyes twitched, just a little, even as she kicked her feet up onto the table, and Peter knew he struck a cord.

As if she knew her eyes were her tell, she flicked the black glasses back over her eyes. they almost entirely covered her scar. “She’s not my mom. And my dad works there too. I didn’t realize Stark kept a list of his employees out there for anyone to see. Seems dangerous.”

Peter ignored the taunt. “If your parents works for Stark, then why are you interning at Oscorp?”

Molly shrugged. “Call it teenage rebellion.”

“But I thought you wanted to be a journalist. Oscorp is a research and development company.” Peter pushed on. “There’s no reason for you to internship there.”

She rocked back even further in her chair. “I like to be a well-rounded woman.”

Peter shook his head, fingers itching to pull her forward so all four legs of her chair were on the ground. “No, no, I don’t think that’s it. I think you knew there’d be a story.”

Molly let her chair drop with a smack, shoving her glass back up into her hair. “Maybe I did. Maybe there _is_. It doesn’t matter, Peter. What matters is that Norman Osborn is trying to recreate the super soldier serum, patented by Stark, by the way, and is planning to sell it to a government, ours, our allies, our enemies, Osborn doesn’t care.”

Peter leaned back in his seat. “The super soldier serum…”

Molly nodded gravely. “Say that three times fast.”

Peter looked up at Molly. “This is serious.”

“Obviously, or I would have dealt with it myself.” She said snippily, shifting in her seat.

Peter shook his head. “We don’t have enough to go to Mr. Stark yet, we’ll have to get some proof.”

Molly looked incredulous. “And how are we supposed to do that?”

Peter hummed, an idea forming in his head. “You said you heard the code?” Molly nodded. “So you could type it in?” she nodded again. “Didn’t Harry say something about a gala next Friday?”

Molly tilted her head to the side, smile slowly spreading over her face. “I knew there was a reason I came to you for help.”


	4. Come Here Often?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle wanted to know what she was doing wrong. Was it her walk? The way she dressed? Whatever it was, something about Michelle was sending out a message loud and clear to the criminals of Queens.  
> Literally what are the odds?  
> Michelle looked unimpressed down the bat the mugger had on her chest, pushing her against the wall, trying to ignore the erratic beating of her heart. 'Yes heart, thank you, we are in a dangerous situation. Now can you stop beating so fast so my hands will stop shaking and I can think!?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! I'm back on my bullshit. ive update the first three chapters because I sort of wrote myself into a hole for a hot sec but I fixed it and now you get my brain vomit again!! yay!!! please don't hate me for being gone I love you guys  
> also I AM LOOKING FOR A BETA SOMEONE PLS HELP ME

            Michelle wanted to know what she was doing wrong. Was it her walk? The way she dressed? Whatever it was, something about Michelle was sending out a message loud and clear to the criminals of Queens.

_Literally what are the odds?_

Michelle looked unimpressed down the bat the mugger had on her chest, pushing her against the wall, trying to ignore the erratic beating of her heart. _Yes heart, thank you, we are in a dangerous situation. Now can you stop beating so fast so my hands will stop shaking and I can think!?_

“Hand it over sweetheart, and we won’t have any problems.” The guy looked like a rat, with a long nose and beady eyes. Michelle wanted to kick him in his little rat balls, but she didn’t have a death wish. Her eyes twitched over to the three other goons who looked pretty bored while their leader squabbled with the high school girl.

Michelle shifted her backpack strap. She had been walking home from the library where she had NOT been trying to find Peter and Molly, thank you very much, when someone had grabbed her arm and yanked her into an alley. Again. “Do you realize this is my second attempted mugging in less than a week?”

Rat face scoffed. “Cry me a river, hand over the bag.”

Michelle made a face. “As if. I have organic chemistry homework in here and there’s no way I’m redoing it.

“Listen, princess, I don’t think you realize the situation you’re in.”

“I don’t think you realize how tedious organic chemistry is.” Michelle swung her bag and started to unzip it. “I’ll just give you my wallet.” Her hand slid into her back but stopped when she felt the bat lightly push against her chin.

“Take. your. hand.” Michelle raised her face as Rat Face used the bat to push her chin up. “out. of. the. bag.”

Michelle’s fingers tightened on the pepper spray she held in her hand. A fly buzzed on the wall behind her. She could hear people walking past on the opposite side of the alley, but if she yelled no one would get there in time to stop the bat from potentially crushing her skull. Paper crinkled under the feet of the other muggers as they shifted, waiting for a cue from Rat Face. The alley almost smelled as sour as Rat Faces breath.

Michelle looked at him evenly. “Okay, if you want it, go get it.”

When Michelle threw the bag down the alley, she was planning on running, maybe pepper spraying them if necessary. What she wasn’t planning on was her bag landing at the feet of a red and blue spandex covered body.

Spiderman looked down at the army green bag then back at Michelle, eyes whirling like her laptop when she ran it too long. “Really? I come to save you and you throw a bag at me? That’s just rude.”

 After that it was a blur of red and blue against brick and bruises blooming on skin. The muggers didn’t even get a chance to look confused. Finally the dust settled and Michelle was left against the wall, still staring at her bag on the ground. She looked up at the sound of a throat being cleared.

Spiderman shifted awkwardly, as if confused by his limbs, before leaning up against the dumpster, elbow against the sticky green metal while his hand supported his head. "Fancy- no, nope, I can’t do it it’s too gross." He moved over to the wall before posing again. "Fancy meeting you here."

Michelle just shook her head in disbelief, pressing her trembling hands against her thighs. "You're even more helpless than last time." She said, stepping forward with measured steps, picking up her bag from where she had thrown it.

Spiderman immediately stood up straight. He pointed at her. "I resent that."

Michelle ignored him, looking at the muggers who were now webbed to the wall. "Two attempted muggings in four days..." muttered, turning to Spiderman and throwing her arms out, putting herself on display. "Tell me, Spidey, am I doing something wrong here? What is giving them the impression I'm an easy target?” She dropped her arms to point back at him. “I'm very threatening, my teachers always say so on my report cards." Michelle was desperately trying to seem casual, as if she hadn’t spent all day hounded by the press and fellow student, wondering if she would ever see him again, if a minute ago the idea of her brain getting splattered across the alley hadn’t been so far-fetched.

"You're also probably 120 pounds soaking wet, even though you're as tall as the empire state building.” He said, bringing her back to the present. “Do you have a piece of paper and pen?"

Michelle dug through her bag. "I resent that." She handed him the notebook and marker and his eyes were squinted into a smile. He scribbled something on the notebook before ripping it out and slapping it on to the web on the middle guys chest, who groaned weakly. Michelle squinted at the note.

_BAD MEN WITH BATS AND KNIFE. TRIED TO MUG KINDA MEAN BUT GOOD-HEARTED GIRL. PLS ARREST. -XO SPIDERMAN_

"You took the time to give me that backhanded compliment but didn't take the time to spell out please? And XO Spiderman? You gonna start a gossip column now?"

His head tipped to the side like a puppy. "Is that what that shows about?"

Michelle shrugs. "I have no idea, I'm not even entirely sure which rich white people prep school show I'm referring to right now."

It's quiet for a second, and Michelle half expects him to swing away before he speaks up.

"You're not, by the way, doing anything wrong. Muggers pick the easiest target and for some reason they think that's you."

"I’m not an easy target."

He held up his hands. "Hey, you don't have to tell me. You saved me from a bomb, remember? Your tough girl badge has been earned. I'm sure if I was here a couple of minutes later all these guys would have been tied up and _you_ would have written _me_ a note."

Michelle didn't want to think about if Spiderman had been late. "Yeah, you really messed up my jam. I was gonna hit that one with a quick one two, then you know, do a back flip into the other one’s face. It would have been awesome.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” His voice was soft and Michelle truly didn’t know why.

She stood there awkwardly before throwing her bag over her shoulder. “well, I better go, my, um, dad- “

“yeah, no totally- “

“-he’s pretty strict- “

“-I get it, I get it-

“-especially since I’m grounded- “

“-it’s cool, its cold, even- “

“-since I stayed and defused a bomb instead of running away.”

She saw his face scrunch up under the mask. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Michelle shrugged, “Nah, you told me to go. Don’t worry, I told him that too, so he only hates you a little.” She was smiling. Gross. “Okay, well bye bug boy, catch you when I catch you.”

He was halfway up the wall before he turned back, standing straight up on the side of it like it was nothing. “Is that a thinly veiled threat?”

She smiled harder. Double gross. “If I wanted to, I could figure out who you are in a minute.”

He crouched down. “Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

“but I don’t. At least, not yet.” Michelle turned, ready to leave it at that, but she threw one last thing over her shoulder before turning around the corner. “Better not let me get bored, Spidey.”

And then she was gone.

 

___________________

 

Peter watched Michelle walk away, only letting her get around the corner before shooting a web and swinging onto the rooftop to follow her home. Her hair bounced as she walked, even though she doesn’t walk with much pep. Her wallet comes out to give money to homeless people sitting on the corners with signs and worn gloves. She pulls on her cardigan at a cross walk, slams her hands on the hood of a car that almost hits her. Its mesmerizing, watching her exist in the world without knowing anyone was watching.

Oh my god he sounds like an axe murder.

But it was true. Michelle was kinder when she thought no one would notice, was brighter when she thought no one could see her, held herself like a real new Yorker while waiting for the traffic light to change. It made his cheeks warm for reasons he couldn’t explain. But he kept watching until she unlocked the door and went up the stairs. Kneeled on the roof across the street until he heard her call out to her mom and enter her room, until he saw her throw her bag onto her rolley chair, propelling it into the wall across the room, before flopping onto her bed.

She should really get curtains.

Peter stood, shooting out a web and swinging down and up again, waving back at the people who waved at him. He thought back to his conversation in the library with Molly.

Molly’s eyes were as bright as they were pale as she started shoving her things into her bag. “this is perfect, this is a great plan,” she said intensely, whipping the bag over her shoulder.

Peter wasn’t so sure. “all I said was that we should use the Gala as cover.”

“and its perfect! I have to dip, but well talk more at lunch, yeah?” she said, throwing her backpack over her shoulder and whipping her white cane out like a sword.

Peter jumped back to avoid being hit, before following her through the shelves. “but, that’s hardly a plan-“

Molly stopped short and Peter barely managed to not knock into her while she whipped around. She looked up like she was dissecting him. “You’re a good kid, Peter Parker-”

“We’re in the same grade…” Peter started but Molly just kept talking.

“But I hardly know you. I’m not getting anymore invested in this until I know I can trust you.” Molly smiled brightly and Peter felt like he had whiplash. Talking to Molly was like having words and emotions thrown at you. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an internship to go to. I think you do too.”

And with that, she left.

Peter didn’t know what to think of Molly. She was… eccentric but reserved, which made zero sense and also gave peter a huge headache

 Peter hoped she’d stay around.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment! I need to know if you guys want me to keep updating or not :)) I'm also desperate for validation


	5. Flypaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Michelle’s day was normal. Better than normal even. She had finally convinced her dad to end her grounding (“dad. I don’t even go anywhere anyways.”) and to buy her a taser during dinner the night before. Her sister had woken her up early to get breakfast at the diner around the corner and Michelle hadn’t missed her train. And, if Michelle was going to get sappy, it was one of those days that reminded her why she loved this sticky, stinking pile of shit city. The broken glass on the sidewalk seemed to shine a little brighter. The graffiti on buildings inspired a feeling of future nostalgia in her, like this profanity covered wall was her generations Sistine Chapel. Even the street rats looked like they had taken the time to clean up before crawling out of the gutters. Michelle was having a rare, Almost Happy Day ™.  
> Or at least she was until Harry Osborn descended upon her on the front steps of the school like a vulture coming in for roadkill, blocking her way to the doors. Michelle vaguely wished she had her taser now as she glared up into his classic baby blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what???? another update so soon???????? that's insane!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but guess who forced herself to sit down and write out a plot? its your local messy bitch that's who!!! I hope you guys like long ass fanfictions cause that's what you're gonna get. enjoy my garbage my children

The beginning of Michelle’s day was normal. Better than normal even. She had finally convinced her dad to end her grounding (“dad. I don’t even go anywhere anyways.”) _and_ to buy her a taser during dinner the night before. Her sister had woken her up early to get breakfast at the diner around the corner before school and Michelle hadn’t missed her train. And, if Michelle was going to get sappy, it was one of those days that reminded her why she loved this sticky, stinking pile of shit city. The broken glass on the sidewalk seemed to shine a little brighter. The graffiti on buildings inspired a feeling of future nostalgia in her, like this profanity covered wall was her generations version of the Sistine Chapel. Even the street rats looked like they had taken the time to clean up before crawling out of the gutters. Michelle was having a rare, Almost Happy Day ™.

Or at least she was until Harry Osborn descended upon her on the front steps of the school like a vulture coming in for roadkill, blocking her way to the doors. Michelle vaguely wished she had her taser now as she glared up into his classic baby blue eyes. Michelle liked stupid boy brown better.

“Michelle Jones, you are glowing today.”

Michelle gave him a brief up and down. He was in jeans that had to have been tailored to his exact measurements. A fitted button up, a blue blazer, cuff links sparkling. _It must be exhausting_ , Michelle thought, _feeling like you have to keep up appearances all the time._

“Your fly is down.” Michelle stated, brushing past him and shoving the front door of the school open. She wasn’t going to talk to him if he was putting on a show again.

Harry ran after her into the school, one hand still on his crotch. “That was a dirty trick, Michelle Jones. Can I call you MJ?”

“No, only my friends call me that.”

Harry placed a hand on his chest. “I’m wounded.”

Michelle’s head fell to the side, bored. “Then bleed out and die.”

“Michelle-“

“Harry.” A sweet voice rang down the hall and Harrys head immediately whipped towards it, all thoughts of Michelle wrung out of his mind like dirty water from a mop. Molly walked steadily down the hall, white cane whacking the wall evenly like a metronome, bright yellow dress and purple cardigan practically, ahem, blinding. Harrys face got soft and boyish like it did the day before, and Michelle watched attentively. It was, endearing, to see a boy go all mushy like that with a single word from a girl who seemed almost indifferent about him. _But she gave him attention, and sometimes that was enough to keep hope alive_ , Michelle rationalized, feeling uncomfortably self-aware.

Molly had finally reached them, folding up her cane in one hand and batting Harry’s hands away from her backpack strap  with the other. “Harry,” Molly said, snapping her cane in her holster. “I said I can carry my backpack myself. I’m not some helpless little blind girl lost in the big city. I’m very capable.”

Harry, frankly, looked like a scolded little kid. “I know you are, Molly,” he agreed earnestly, and Michelle felt the corner of her mouth threaten to lift at the way he tripped and backtracked so quickly for her. “And I know you _can_ , but you don’t have to and I _want_ to-“

“Harry,” Molly said, reaching out blindly ( _Obviously, stupid_ , Michelle thought to herself), and Harry was quick to slip his hand into hers. She held his larger hand in both of hers and ‘looked’ up at him with large, pale, honest eyes. “I know you mean well, but I really need to talk to Michelle one on one. Do you think you could go somewhere else?”

Michelle almost laughed out loud at the bluntness of Molly’s words. It was exactly how Michelle talked to Peter. Peter. Michelle felt her mood darken, a storm cloud gathering above her head as she wondered what had happened at Molly and Peter’s meeting in the library yesterday.

Harry blinked twice before smiling weakly. “Uh, sure, Molly. I’ll find you before lunch and we can-“

“Actually, I’m eating lunch with Michelle today.” Michelle and Harry both stared at Molly, equally confused, but Molly just tipped her head to the side and let her hair fall over her shoulder as she smiled. “Class project, you know?”

Michelle narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but Harry was already nodding vaguely while taking fractional steps backwards. “Oh, okay, well… I’ll see you… later.” Harry said, going to let go of Molly’s hand but she held tight, making him turn back.

Harry stood above Molly, looking down into her eyes, and Michelle swore she saw real, powerful affection on Molly’s face as she smiled up at him. Molly squeezed Harry’s hand and pressed it against her cheek and just… held it there for a second. Michelle felt like she was intruding on a personal moment and wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t. She wanted… that. That casual, affectionate touching that made your heart race and mind go blank. _Garbage,_ Michelle thought, feeling heat on her cheeks. _I have a garbage brain._

“I’ll see you between 4th and 5th?” Molly asked, and Harry nodded dumbly before she let go of his hand and he practically floated away down the hall. Michelle and Molly watched him go.

“That was, impressive.” Michelle admitted admiringly before closing that shit off and turning back to Molly. “What are you using him for?”

Molly sniffed primly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “Who said I’m using him for anything? Maybe I really like him.”

“People who really like someone don’t say stuff like that.”

Molly pursed her lips and ‘looked’ at Michelle for a moment before sticking her arm out and saying, “Walk with me.” Michelle stared at Molly before deciding she didn’t have anything better to do and placed her hand in the crook of Molly’s arm. They only got a little bit down the hall before Michelle was tired of waiting. “What do you want?”

Molly hummed. “Hm. Abrasive.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, determined not to smile even though Molly couldn’t see it. “Molly…”

Molly huffed like Michelle had spoiled something. “Fine. Well, first, I just want to say that this isn’t the only reason I’m talking to you right now, because I plan on us becoming very close friends-“Michelle choked on her own spit trying to say- something- about that. “- and we _are_ eating lunch together later, but I have to ask you, what do you think of Peter Parker?”

Immediately the storm clouds were back, lightning crackling at the ends of her curls. Michelle frowned and shifted uneasily as they strolled past the court yard. The school was waking up, the halls were filling, lockers creaking and slamming like an orchestra of sounds. Soon it wouldn’t be safe for Michelle to say anything about Peter less someone else heard her. _Why don’t you care if Molly hears what you have to say? She’s a reporter for godsake. _But even as she tried to make herself worried, she just wasn’t. Molly was a lone wolf. Michelle hadn’t seen her interact with anyone the first couple of months of school until she was suddenly always at Harry’s elbow. Molly was alone. And Michelle, for once in her life, decided to damn the consequences. “What about him?”

Molly shrugged as Michelle led her down the more secluded theatre hallway. Posters of student draw work littered the walls. “I just want you to tell me anything you think is of note.”

Anything of note, huh? His uncle died last year, is that of note? How about the mysterious appearance of muscles on his scrawny little body? The way he disappears, most of the times without even a shitty excuse? Or how he was rushed to the hospital on a fieldtrip last year and has never acted the same since? Was any of that of note???

“He’s a genuinely good person.” Michelle heard herself say instead, glad Molly couldn’t see her blush. “He’s kind and caring to a fault, incredibly flaky but if you really need him, really truly need him, he’ll find a way to be there. He’s just… he’s just Peter Parker.” Michelle bristled under the emotions she could practically see dripping from her words and shrugged Molly’s arm off of hers as she leaned against a wall. “You’ve met him, you should know that by now.”

Molly was ‘looking’ at her and Michelle had a feeling she was getting way too much classified information from Michelle’s voice and Michelle did. Not. Like. It. Molly’s face suddenly split into a wide smile and Michelle almost jumped at the change. It was like watching someone shoot down the clouds to reveal the sun. “Well, thanks Michelle! That was all super helpful.”

Molly had whipped out her cane and started to leave before Michelle damned the consequences again and called out, “Why me?” Molly halted her movements and Michelle realized how badly she wanted to hear the answer. “Why did you ask me?”

Molly didn’t turn around but Michelle could hear the curious fondness in her voice. “Because you’re incredibly smart, Michelle Jones, and I think we’re gonna be great friends.”

Michelle didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing at all, just listened to the tap tap tap of Molly moving down the hall and wished, for some reason, that Molly was a little less likable.

* * *

 

Lunch was, surprisingly, one of Michelle’s favorite parts of the day. Despite the glaring social aspect of it, it was essentially an entire hour of her day where she had no responsibilities. And, if she was being honest, which, gross, she did like getting to hang out with Peter and Ned. And by hang out, she meant listen to them talk while she pretended to read and insulting them when the opportunity arose. And when it did, the tips of Peter’s ears were get all pink and his nose would scrunch and it was dumb. Whatever its not like she even thought about it that much.

Michelle walked down the aisle way with her strawberry milk and banana (there were no more apples) towards their table. ‘They’ being Michelle and Peter and Ned. Michelle and her… friends. Yesterday, she had sat next to them instead of half of a table down, and it had been… nice. She could hear them better, glare at them better, get a look at the freckles on the bridge of Peters nose better… but she couldn’t be too conspicuous. Michelle noticed Peter pretending not to watch her walk down the aisle, ignored the way he pulled his back pack off the seat next to him, and promptly walked past him. No, sitting next to Peter was not an option. Too much stimuli.

 So Michelle walked around the edge of the table and dropped down next to Ned. Ned was good, Ned was safe, Ned was… staring at her. “What.” Michelle said flippantly, forcefully trying to open her milk carton.

Ned turned away. “Did I say anything? I didn’t say anything.” Michelle rolled her eyes and struggled with her milk until she saw someone holding out their hand.

Her eyes followed up the arm to Peter, who looked bashful as he made grabby hands for her milk. “I can- I’m like, weirdly good at opening milk cartons. I mean, if you want to-“Michelle shoved the carton into his hand just to stop his weirdly endearing inability to speak before she did something stupid like pinch his cheek. Peter held the milk carefully and- set it down front of Michelle.

 _Are you serious?_ “Are you serious?” she said aloud, picking up the newly, opened carton. He just- and it just- and Michelle tried but it- Peter just blushed deeply, pulling a sandwich out of his lunch bag.

“I said I was good at it.”

“Are we talking about Peter in the sack?”

Peters hands flew to his neck like he was ready to choke himself, milk came out of Ned’s nose, and Michelle actually let herself smile up at Molly.

In the classes leading up to lunch, Michelle had been thinking. A lot. She had been especially lonely since Liz had moved last semester, leaving Michelle with no female friends and no idea how to make any more. And then, this morning, Molly had pushed her. Really pushed Michelle, and forced her to open up, even if it was just a little bit. And Michelle had _liked_ it. Not at the time, No, at the time Michelle had wished for the pits of hell to open and swallow her up whole but, after, it had felt nice to share. Ugh, gross.

So Michelle had decided to embrace whatever Molly was planning on doing with this whole friendship thing. Hence, the smile.

Molly seemed to sense it, because she smiled back as she sat down across from Michelle, next to Peter. Who was staring at Michelle, mouth slightly open. Michelle shifted in her seat, dropping the smile from her face to sneer at him. But instead of looking scared like he normally did, Peter just blinked and stared down at his crustless sandwich.

“No? Okay, sorry guys,” Molly conceded, pulling her own lunch out of her bag. “I thought it was funny.” Michelle was happy Molly was blind because if she wasn’t she definitely would have been scared off by the way that Ned was staring at her, milk still dripping off his chin. Ew.

“Ned wipe off your face.” Michelle said, handing him one of her napkins, which he took slowly, and robotically. Oh yeah, having a female friend was going to be refreshing.

* * *

“Would- would you want to come? Mich- MJ?”

Peters good-hearted, little white boy puppy dog eyes were burning into her forehead over the top of her book. Molly had the length of her calf pressed firmly against Michelle’s under the table like an anchor. And Ned, well Michelle was pretty sure Ned was actually holding his breath.

This was stupid. All Peter was asking was if Michelle wanted to come to movie night. Or more accurately, Ned had begun talking about their movie night, and Molly had hinted that Michelle had the night open. How she knew, Michelle wasn’t sure, but it also wasn’t hard to guess. So Peter invited her. And now, everyone was looking at her.

Michelle looked up, stubbornly looking just past Peter’s shoulder instead of his face, but she could still see his stupidly earnest and hopeful expression. What a stupid boy. What a stupid, stupid boy, to not realize you can’t just _look_ at people like that. There are _rules_. There is _order_. There is _protocol_.

“Sure.” Michelle said, going back to her book that she hasn’t absorbed a word from the whole period. Michelle didn’t know why she was reacting like this. It wasn’t like he had _proposed_. But something about the way Peter had asked her had her feeling like this was something, like it was change.

Michelle didn’t like change.

“Really?” Ned spluttered, which, dramatic much? But Peter just smiled dopily while Michelle started resolutely at her book and Molly’s foot nudged Michelle’s under the table. Shut up. Maybe she should give up on this female friend idea. It was obviously not working out.

“How about you Molly? Do you want to come?” Peter asked politely, beginning to put his trash into his brown lunch bag. Molly shook her head.

“I have a thing.” Michelle’s eyebrows rose in sync with Ned’s but neither of them said anything. Peter, the sweet nerd just smiled and nodded, holding his hands out for everyone’s trash. Michelle made sure to push her banana peel against his hand as uncomfortably as she could and watched as his dumb smile transformed into a comical frown.

“Aw, MJ. Why?” he whined. But Michelle just shrugged. He came back grumbling but not really angry, and the rest of lunch passed in a blur until the bell rang. Michelle, Peter, and Ned all shoved their stuff in their bags and stood up, ready to leave, but Molly stopped them.

“Hey guys, wait up!” she called, standing up and fumbling for her cane, but Peter immediately grabbed her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. Molly smiled up at him and it made a… irritatingly pure picture.

Peter was talking. “Molly, we all have gym next period- but if you need someone to walk you to class I can be late, I don’t mind.” Now why did that send a hot flash through Michelle’s body?

Molly looked just as effected as Michelle felt, mouth open, hand that was looped through Peters arm on her chest, over her heart. “Hot _damn_ , Peter Parker, someone raised you right.” Peter stuttered, flustered and red in the best way, but Molly talked over him instead of letting him squirm like Michelle would have. “but no, I don’t need to be lead anywhere but the gym.”

Peters brow furrowed. “I don’t…”

Molly just lifted up her other hand which was holding a familiar mix of royal blue and yellow.

“No way…” Ned said, realization dawning on his face and Molly smiled.

“Say hello to your newest classmate, noobs. I have no fucking idea what happens in a high school gym class. Now someone show me where the locker room is before I start stripping in public.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) I would die so quick for May Parker its not healthy. I hoped you guys liked it! pls comment and let me know what you thought!!!


	6. Dodge This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly paused halfway picking up her back pack. “you mean you’ve never met May?”  
> Michelle shifted her backpack. “No. Why, is that weird?”  
> Molly and Michelle started walking towards the door to the hall. “no, I mean you guys have only know each other like a year and a half right?”  
> Michelle held the door open for Molly. “five years.”  
> Molly moved over to the wall and Michelle followed. “Oh. Um, well good luck!”  
> “with what?”  
> Molly ‘looked’ up at Michelle. “Meeting aunt may for the first time.”  
> Michelle’s brow furrowed. “Why?”  
> “Well, uh… I mean, she’s like the most important person in Peter’s life, right? Personally, I’d be nervous.” Molly must have sensed Michelle’s rising panic and quickly backtracked. “But you’re MJ so obviously you’ve got everything handled and its like not even a big deal in the first place, so I don’t even know why I brought it up, probably cause I'm horrible at-” The warning bell rang and Molly whipped out her cane, obviously helpful for the interruption. “Oh, I gotta go, Bye MJ!” Molly practically ran into the wave of students as Michelle stood there with a blank expression on her face and a horrible seed of doubt planted in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and worse than ever binches lets go I wrote a super long chapter to make up for my absence but infinity war ruined my life and I wish I was dead enjoy my corpse

“Hey Michelle, look.”

Michelle tugged down the bottom of her shirt, closing her locker before turning around. “Uh, Molly?”

Molly posed, one hand on her hip, other on the side of her head, shirt and shorts both backwards. “do you think if I went out there like this anyone would say anything? Or would they just let me go through the whole period with my shit backwards?”

Michelle shrugged, leaning over to tie her sneakers. “I wouldn’t say anything.”

Molly barked out a laugh, and some of the other girls in the locker room looked over as she dropped trou, switched leg holes, and pulled her shorts up right. “And here I thought we were friends, Michelle.” She pouted, pulling her arms back into the shirt and wiggling until it turned around.

Michelle reached out for Molly at the same time as Molly reached for Michelle and Michelle couldn’t help but think of nice it was to be in sync with someone who wasn’t Peter Parker. Michelle looked down at Molly. “You, its, uh- you can call me MJ.”

Molly smiled up at her as they began to walk towards the gym doors. “Okay, _MJ_.”

 

* * *

 

Molly was not being humble when she said she had no idea what happened in a gym class, considering she hadn’t been forced to take one since she lost her sight. It was quite frankly frightening for Peter, watching her walk across the room, Michelle being dragged behind her as balls flew not inches past her face, people scrambled out of the way, and her feet stomped determinedly over obstacles.

She pulled up short in front of Peter and Ned on the bleachers, turning back to smile brightly at Michelle, who’s eyes were open slightly wider than usual, MJ’s equivalent to screaming her head off. “See? I told you I could do it. The trick is not caring if something hits you in the face.

“That was like the lucky cricket scene with Mulan’s grandma.” Ned said from next to Peter.

Molly pointed her finger slightly to the left of Ned. “I understood that reference and I Approve.” She clapped her hands together. “okay! Now what do we do?”

Peter shrugged, and Ned leaned back, resting against the bleacher behind him. “I dunno, I normally just hold Peters feet and watch him do sit ups.”

Molly nodded vaguely. “right… are those the ones with the bars?”

“Alright everyone!” Coach Wilson said, dragging the lawn chair he sat in during every class out of his office. “circle up!”

Peter blinked in confusion. “is he… actually making us do something?”

Michelle stared in shock as well. “this is not what the American taxpayers are paying him for.”

“Then what are they paying him for?” Molly asked.

“To traumatize us deeply on a mental and emotional level, obviously.” Michelle said, leading Molly over to the crowd of pale legged, baggy shirted group of their classmates while Peter and Ned followed.

“Yeah, obviously.” Peter agreed quietly, and he saw the corner of Michelle’s mouth lift while Molly and Ned snorted.

Coach blew his whistle. “Alright be quiet, be quiet. I watched the movie Dodgeball last night and got an idea.”

“Was the idea to play dodgeball?” Charles asked, and Cindy snorted.

Coach Wilson stared at Charles for a moment before turning back to the group. “Anyways. We’re going to play dodge ball.”

A freckle speckled arm shot up in front of Peters face. “Uh, coach? What am I supposed to do?”

Coach Wilson looked at Molly. “What do you mean?”

She shifted her weight a little, obviously confused. “Well, I mean I can’t play dodgeball.”

“why not?” Molly ‘stared’ at him for a moment while Michelle dropped her head into her hands. “oh right. I forgot you were joining the class today. Uh, you can be the captain!”

Molly’s head tipped to the side. “of both teams?”

“no, uh… Flash! You’ll be the other captain. Right, okay, you two come up to the front.”

Molly hesitantly whipped out her white cane, accidentally smacking Bettys leg (who stifled a yelp) before making her way towards his voice. Peter and Ned glanced at each other. Flash sauntered up to Molly, and Peter shifted uneasily, already feeling his hackles go up in defense of the slight girl. He saw Michelle stand up straighter as well in the corner of his eye.

Flash stopped and smiled slickly. “Molly marbles, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself.” He stuck out his hand.

Molly blinked at him before turning away. “Your name is a verb.” Michelle snorted, and Flash’s head whipped in her direction.

“Okay you two, time to pick teams.” Coach Wilson yelled from his lawn chair.

“I’ll go first.” Molly said, cutting of Flash before he even made a sound. “I want MJ.”

Michelle started, before glancing at Peter and making her way to the front where Molly was smiling, waiting for her.

“Fine. Penis parker, you’re mine.” Flash said, and Peter tensed. Could he bear being forced to play dodgeball and not get the chance to whip one at flash’s face? Absolutely not.

Luckily Coach Wilson piped up from behind his magazine. “You don’t get Peter because you called him penis. Parker you’re on Marbles team. Flash, pick someone else.”

Peter smiled at Molly and as he walked up she held her hand out for him.

“You’re going to have to help me because I don’t actually know who’s in this class and Michelle refuses to admit she knows anyone’s names.” Michelle shrugged at him over Molly’s shoulder and Peters stomach warmed.

“I want Ned.”

Peter felt Molly’s hand tense in his before she dropped it and turned to Flash. “I wanted Leeds.”

“I know,” Flash said, smiling smugly at Peter. “That’s why I picked him.”

Molly walked forward and got up in Flashes faced- too close- and ‘stared’ at him for a moment.

“Peter?” She called.

“Yes?”

“Pick who I want next.”

“Uh, Betty.”

And that’s how the teams got chosen, Peter picking for Molly while she stood on her tip toes, making Flash incredibly uncomfortable. When everyone was picked off she slowly backed up from flash until she walked into Peter.

She turned around smiling brightly. “Okay, I hope you picked a good team cause, personally, I’m ready to fuck his bitchass shit up. High-five.”

Michelle snorted again, and Peter smiled, holding up his hand and laughing when Molly hit him in the face. Oh yeah, this would be fun.

 

* * *

 

For someone who couldn’t actually see what was happening, Molly was very enthusiastic, screaming encouragements at her team and shouting creative insults at the other.

Even Michelle got into it, laughing at Molly’s colorful words as she used her years of dance classes (tell anyone and you die) to gracefully dodgeballs as she handed most of her balls to peter. That was pretty much the team’s strategy. Don’t get hit, and hand Peter your balls.

Peter was (Annoyingly) good at dodgeball, moving out of the way of balls before they even thrown, whipping balls at flash and his cronies with deadly accuracy. It was highly entertaining.

“Yes! Yes!” Molly yelled, hopping up and down in front of Flash when the game had ended. “In your face Eugene!” (a name she had found out during the first 5minutes of the game and had been relishing in ever since). Peter laughed, and Michelle smiled and even Flash had a light in his eyes while looking at the bouncing girl.

“Yeah, yeah,” Coach Wilson said, folding up his lawn chair and heading back to his office. “you won, don’t let it get to your head. Everyone’s dismissed. Get out.”

“Oh, it’s definitely gotten to my head” Molly said as Michelle lead her back to the locker room. “I feel like I’m on crack.”

Michelle glanced at Molly as she unlocked her locker. “Are you familiar with that feeling?”

“Oh yeah,” Molly said, jabbing the buttons on lockers keypad lock. “You know me. I'm a fucking addict. How do you think I lost my sight?” Michelle just shook her head and smiled, digging out her crumpled-up clothes from the bottom of her locker.

“So, MJ,” Molly started, and Michelle felt her hackles instinctively rise. She knew what that voice meant. _Girl talk_. “Are you excited for movie night?”

“I lost the ability to feel excitement back in ’08,” Michelle said pulling up her pants, desperately trying to find a way out of this situation. She hadn’t had to deal with girl talk since her sister had tried and Michelle had panicked, tried to run, and knocked the wig right off her sister’s head.

“Hm,” Molly hummed. “Well, Peter seemed excited.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Peter is in a permanent state of excitement because he is the human embodiment of a golden retriever.”

Molly shrugged in a terribly non-nonchalant way. “I’m just saying… plus, I’m sure you’re excited to see Aunt May again, I’ve heard she’s awesome.”

Michelle pulled her head through the hole in her shirt and looked a Molly. “How do you know about Aunt May?”

“Me and Ned were talking during the game when I wasn’t trying to figure out a school appropriate way to tell Eugene I was going to make him eat his own dick.” Michelle shook her head and closed her locker, waiting for Molly to finish putting on her shoes. “Plus Peter posts about her on social media all the time. ” Molly said, standing up and restrapping her thigh holster. “is she as great as she sounds?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Michelle shrugged.

Molly paused halfway picking up her back pack. “you mean you’ve never met her?”

Michelle shifted her backpack. “No. Why, is that weird?”

Molly threw her back pack over her shoulder and her and Michelle started walking towards the door to the hall. “no, I mean you guys have only know each other like a year and a half right?”

Michelle held the door open for Molly. “five years.”

Molly moved over to the wall and Michelle followed. “Oh. Um, well good luck!” Molly pulled her white cane out of its holster.

“with what?”

Molly ‘looked’ up at Michelle. “Meeting aunt may for the first time.”

Michelle’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Molly’s face looked a little pinched, like she had dug herself into a hole and knew the only way out was through. “Well, uh… I mean, she’s like the most important person in Peter’s life, right? Personally, I’d be nervous.” Molly must have sensed Michelle’s rising panic and quickly backtracked. “But you’re MJ so obviously you’ve got everything handled and its like not even a big deal in the first place, so I don’t even know why I brought it up, probably cause I'm horrible at-” The warning bell rang and Molly whipped out her cane, obviously helpful for the interruption. “Oh, I gotta go, I told Harry I’d let him walk me to class. Bye MJ!” Molly practically ran into the wave of students as Michelle stood there with a blank expression on her face and a horrible seed of doubt planted in her mind.

       

* * *

 

Meeting May was…. Stressful.

It wasn’t even the actual Meeting of May that was stressful as was the idea of it, or how every stinking second leading up to the actual event was agonizing. Michelle worried about it all day, thanks to Molly’s word vomit that Michelle was sure was meant to be a casual remark but still sent her _spiraling_. She was in a complete panic for her last two classes, not even bothering to open a book to pretend to read. She just stared out the window, ruminating.

Molly was right. May _was_ the most important person in Peters life. Her opinion _mattered_ to him. And what if May liked girly girls? What if May liked girls who kept their opinions to themselves? Who didn’t ‘bully’ their nephews? Girls who pretended not to be as smart as they were? What if May- what if May liked _white_ girls?

Michelle shook her head at that. No. _No_. Someone raised Peter right and Michelle knew, even if her brain was betraying her, that that someone was May Parker. Michelle saw the notes with the heart dotted ‘I’s in Peter’s lunches, the lipstick marks on his forehead from morning goodbyes, the light in his eyes whenever he talked about her, and the books on feminism she would see Peter reading without her recommendation. May Parker would be an amazing woman and Michelle would be fine. And if May didn’t like her, the Parkers lived on like the eighth floor so worse comes to worse Michelle could always jump out a window.

In the end it was less of a deal than Michelle thought it would be. Peter had told her to come over at 4 (“We were planning on doing a marathon. Not that you have to stay for the whole thing! I mean- I want you to! But. You don’t. Have. To . Um, yeah.”). Michelle walked in after a single knock, Peter squawked, May hugged her, and Ned laughed from the couch as Michelle accepted the hug with her arms straight down.

May pulled back from the hug (she smelled like sunflower oil) and smiled at Michelle. “Nice shirt, I have one just like it in the wash.” Michelle looked down at her ‘Black Lives Matter’ shirt and back up at May who was looking at Michelle appraisingly.

“You are exactly like I thought you’d be. Peter talks about you all the time.” There was a choking sound behind her, but Michelle couldn’t tear her eyes away from May’s kind face, which had a trying- hard-not-to-laugh-while-pretending-to-be-stern-but-failing expression on it. “There are two rules here: don’t spill anything, and when you inevitably do, clean it up. Okay!” May said, smiling warmly and clapping her hands together, glowing in the warm light of the lamp. This was definitely the woman who raised Peter Parker right. “I’m off to my room to give you guys some privacy. No weird sex stuff.”

“May!” Peter squeaked, but the older woman just laughed and moseyed down the hall. Peter turned back, red faced. “I promise _we_ never do weird sex stuff.” He said, gesturing frantically between himself and Ned, who was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Michelle just shrugged, pretending like a giant weight hadn’t just been lifted off her shoulders. May knew who Michelle was, and, more importantly, May _liked_ Michelle. “Your Aunts cool. Where’s the popcorn?” Peter scrambled to grab the bowl while Michelle sat in the arm chair and pulled out her book (a new one) and settled in, chancing a glance round the place where Peter Parker grew up.

The apartment was small and warm, and the walls were covered with photos and the shelves were filled with books and there were blankets and pillows and candles on every available surface and it smelled like pizza. Michelle felt her heart swell as she looked at a photo of 10-year-old Peter wearing an iron man mask at the Stark expo in queens that was later broken up by iron drones.

“Hey,” Michelle looked up at Peter who was holding out a bowl nervously. “Ned likes sharp cheddar seasoning on his popcorn, but I like it plain and I didn’t know what you wanted so I just didn’t do anything.”

Michelle took the bowl from him and looked back at her book. “Plain is fine.” And if Michelle had to fight off a smile when she saw Peter beam at her from the corner of her eye, well, no one else had to know.

 

* * *

 

The first two movies passed without much note, unless you noted the way the screen reflected off of Peters big brown eyes, or the way he ducked his head to wipe his eyes on his hoodie sleeves when the movie hit him in the feels, which Michelle did. She was starting to understand why girls started acting all dumb when they met a boy; there was no time to read when you had to stare at their dumb faces all the time.

By the time they were moving onto the third movie though, (“MJ do you have a curfew?” “Ned, my parents want me to have friends so bad they’d probably give me money for crack if I asked.” “So…” “No, Ned, I don’t have a curfew. ”Awesome, I’ll make more popcorn.”) Michelle had claimed a corner of the couch. Next to Peter. Who was looking at her… tenderly?

That was unacceptable. The only tender Michelle wanted in her life was Peter’s arm after she punched him. Multiple times. Preferably while wearing rings. Tender had no place in his expression, especially not while he was looking at her. "What, Parker?" she snapped, but the gentle look on his face didn't change, big brown eyes _gazing_ at her.

"I'm really happy you’re here, MJ."

And what the _fuck_ was she supposed to do with that?  

"Say something like that again and I’ll leave." she said, and Peter laughed, pulling her up to watch the movie. Michelle ended up pressed against his side, and she was about to move away before it got awkward, but he just put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

Ned came back in from the kitchen, interrupting the blush spreading across Michelle's cheeks and carrying a bowl of popcorn. "What? You started a cuddle puddle without me? Not cool, dude." Ned shook his head, settling down on Peter’s left and pressing play.

It was weird. When they first started movie night, Michelle sat on the armchair with a book in case she didn't like the film. The she migrated to the couch, still clinging to her book. She finally put her book on the side table when she realized how easily she could distract Peter from the movie and make him entertain her. But she never expected to become a part of their 'cuddle puddle'. It was weird. Why did neither of them seem to think this was weird?!

Michelle looked up at Peter, something she’d hadn’t had to do since middle school, since she’d been taller than him for about three years now. He had a nice jaw. Michelle quickly turned back to the screen.

After a few minutes, Michelle realized how awkward of a position her neck was at, holding it up at an angle. She carefully set it on Peter’s chest, hoping he wouldn’t say anything about it. Almost immediately she felt his cheek press against the top of her head, loose strands of her hair lifting as he took a deep breath in.

 

* * *

 

Michelle tried to watch the movie. She really did, because it was Ned’s turn to pick again, and he said she never payed attention when he did, but it really wasn't her fault. It was Peter’s, per usual. He was so… distracting. Firstly, how did he smell so good? He smelled like every other boy and yet Michelle literally felt high off his scent as she rested her cheek against his chest. Secondly, his chest? And the way it was so firm and hard and nice??? Michelle didn't want to talk about it.

And then there was his thumb. Michelle had more than half a mind to chop it off. Because, seemingly without Peter’s knowledge, it was rubbing at her shoulder. Michelle had seen the tweets 'WHEN HE HOLDS YOUR HAND AND RUBS HIS THUMB ON YOUR HAND LIKE YAAAASSS' followed by a bunch of emojis, and Michelle had always agreed that yes, that seemed, theoretically, like it would be nice, but now that she was experiencing it, she didn't understand how anyone could possibly enjoy this. Because this was torture. She couldn't focus on anything. The movie, breathing, her own thoughts. Her entire universe was narrowed down to that point of contact as Peter’s thumb brushed back and forth over her shoulder, through her hoodie. It was _through her hoodie_ and Michelle was still losing her god damn mind. She felt like she needed to be kept in one of those plastic bubbles so she could never be touched again. Her nervous system obviously wasn’t meant for it.

But Peter was warm, and safe, and the feeling of his thumb rubbing her shoulder was as soothing as it was brain frying, and Michelle found herself drifting off on Peter’s chest.

Michelle woke up to Peter brushing her hair back from her face.

“hey,” he said softly as Michelle turned her face into his shoulder. “Ned’s mom is here and said shed give you a ride home.”

“which one?” Michelle asked, moving into the warm weight of his hand where it was resting on her neck.  

“Carol.” He said, standing up and laughing when Michelle let herself fall face first into the couch. “Come on MJ you have to get up, she’s almost here.” Peter gently pulled at her arm until Michelle stood up.

“what time is it?” she asked stretching and stopping mid yawn, knowing her breath probably smelled like ass.

“midnight.”

Michelle made a face. “midnight? I normally stay up til three am.”

Ned held her bag out for her, a knowing smile on his face. “I guess you were comfortable.”

Michelle took her bag from him as he got the text from his mom telling him she was here. He went to the door to put on his shoes. Peter turned to Michelle.

“I'm really glad you came.”

Michelle hummed as she shoved her bag into Peter’s hands to pull out her jacket. “I know, you already said that.”

Peter shifted as he obediently held her bag. “Yeah, I know, I just- I am. Glad.” Michelle reached for her bag, but Peter held on, catching her eyes. “I hope we can do it again sometimes.”

Michelle nodded, letting a tiny smile onto her face, and was promptly blinded by Peters grin. She rolled her eyes and walked over to Ned who really needed to stop making that stupid face.

"Well, bye guys.” Peter said, leaning against the door looking sleep rumpled in his worn MIT t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He and Ned hugged, and Michelle stuck out her hand which Peter took with a smile.

“Goodbye, Peter Parker.” She punctuated with a firm shake and Peter nodded cordially.

“Michelle Jones, good day.” Michelle dropped his hand and walked away, Ned following closely behind.

“You two are so cute.”

“Shut up Ned.”

“Can I be the ring bearer?”

“Ned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls review! special shout out to Wheretherealisshattered for leaving an incredibly kind and thoughtful comment on the last chapter of this fic which gave me the extra boost to finally finish this one. I love you guys, I'm sorry I do you as dirty as marvel does loki but please let me know how you all are feeling about me little babies


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